By Call Me Jane DOE
Image: Posed by a professional model.
I come from a broken home. My mom is bipolar. Lots of men in our lives, but no father.
Lots of drugs.
No stability.
I bounced around from my mom's boyfriends' houses from kindergarten thru high school.
A few of them touched me.
I built up the courage to tell my mom, but I overheard her offering me as collateral if she didn't pay her drug debt.
I was 10.
It was around that time that I figured a wedding would fix things in my life. A wedding would bring me happiness, security, respect. I would belong to someone, so that would bring me protection.
I wanted the wedding, not the marriage. I wanted the dress and the cake, not the “for better or worse" part.
Three years ago I married Jason.
The ceremony was beautiful. I was beautiful.
And I've been trying to sabotage my marriage since the wedding.
I’ve been sleeping with one of the groomsmen. I don’t feel bad about it because I don't love my husband.
I like him, but I don't love love him. Not because I'm evil, I just don't know how to love. I know how to say the words, 'I love you,' but those are just sounds to me.
I want to scream that I want out of this marriage. But for now, I must pretend.
I pretend because I don’t have a lot of options, I’m pregnant and I’m pretty sure Jason is not the father.
This baby is growing inside me and he’s so happy.
But I don't want this life.
I just wanted a wedding.
--JD